Hopeless and Mourning
by bangbangclap
Summary: Edgeworth isn't feeling too good lately. Phoenix just wants to help, but trying to get him to talk is difficult. (warnings inside)


**Warning: This story shows graphic descriptions of blood, violence, cussing, suicide, and depression. Leave if you are not comfortable with any of the above. You have been warned.**

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_Do you think anyone cares about you?_

_I mean, you're more worthless than a pile of shit._

_Why would someone empathize with you anyways?_

Edgeworth gripped onto his head, a groan escaping his lips. His stomach twisted horribly - he couldn't concentrate. Tears swelled up in his eyes, but he blinked them away quickly. _Wow, you're crying? Really? How would von Karma think of you if he saw you like this?_ "Please stop..." He mumbled, continuing to fill out paperwork on his desk. _Hey, why not get that knife from your pocket and start cutting away? It isn't the worst idea, you know._ Edgeworth considered the possibilities of slicing his skin smoothly, making thin red lines of blood trail down his body. He pictured the tears falling, the dull and lifeless look in his eyes, the paleness of skin. It was beautiful.

Maybe a few would have condolences at his funeral, but they'd surely get over it. Franziska would try to hold back tears but would speak her sorrow in her thick, German accent. She would apologize, sincerely. Gumshoe would cry a lot, despite not having a very close relationship with him. Edgeworth figured he'd be the type to cry but laugh the pain off. Maya would cry, too. She'd be devastated that another one close to her perished. Her tears would fall and she wouldn't even try to hold back her sobs. Larry would come to his funeral. He'd cry so much, mourn over how he'd helplessly taken his life. Larry would try and force a smile, but the teardrops would give it away. Phoenix. Phoenix Wright. He would be depressed. He would say a lot of words at his funeral. Phoenix would cry like the crybaby he's always been. Maybe, he'd quit being an attorney and go back to studying art and such. But, whatever the case, he'd be watching over them with a smile.

Edgeworth had only written a few sentences. He was craving for bloodshed, red, pain. _Come on, do it. You know you want it. Anyone would pay a million dollars to see you commit suicide. Don't you want to be with your father? Oh, wait, he's in Heaven. You're gonna be in hell. Oops._ Edgeworth hissed at the voices swirling inside of his head. "Enough..." He tried not to yell or do anything that would attract attention. Edgeworth slid the shiny, silver blade out of his coat pocket. It gleamed in the bright moonlight beautifully. He ran his finger across the sharp edge of the knife and blood trickled against his smooth skin. _Wanna feel the pain first or die?_ "Now..?" Edgeworth questioned himself and looked out of the half-open window.

The city was illuminated by the gold splotches of streetlights, creating a magnificent view. He began to slice his skin which opened up slowly, creating streaks of blood. Edgeworth let out a soft whimper but continued slashing his arms. Blood splattered onto his rolled-up sleeves, slightly camouflaging with the red fabric.

"No, I can't cut myself now... I have a case tomorrow," He muttered, but couldn't find himself being able to stop. _Aww, but you just started! Why not just a little bit more?_ "No..." Edgeworth reasoned, but the voice persisted. _Not like you'll be alive tomorrow, anyways. Just a little more fun won't hurt!_ "No!" He yelled, banging the wall as tears filled his dark eyes. Edgeworth sobbed and slid to the floor of his office, his arm throbbing with pain. He immediately shut up after the voice began to threaten him with horrible scenarios. _Yeah, shut up, worthless bitch. You weren't ever valuable anyways, why would someone waste their time and listen to you?_ Edgeworth quietly whimpered in pain and grabbed a set of bandages, wrapping it around the wound. It stung as the icy air of the outside found its way to his arm. He let out a sharp hiss of pain and secured the bandages, at last, standing up and closing the window. _Wow, so you give up and turn into a pussy? Well, good luck in succeeding to die._

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**A/N: It's short, I know. But this is just a prologue, so... Anyways, leave a review if you want me to improve/add something or just share on what the pros and cons are. I'm not too good at writing so sorry if there's some errors, and this story is going to be bloody and gory (if you didn't notice already). A lot of angst, too. **


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